Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. It was as if he could smell it on her. The end of the world seemed at hand. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. We aren’t worth it.
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